Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic Book 12) Page 6

  Frieda bit off a curse. “What happened to you?”

  Emily looked down at herself. “I fought a traitor and a necromancer,” she said, as she studied the bumps and bruises. Most of them had healed, but enough remained to remind her that she’d been in a fight. She rubbed at a particularly nasty bruise on her upper arm, silently grateful that it was no longer sore. The fight had been so vicious that she honestly didn’t know when she’d been struck. “I’ll heal soon.”

  “You should go find a Healer,” Frieda said. She glanced towards the window. “We could go now…”

  “There’s no pain,” Emily assured her. She touched one of the scars, remembering the moment when white flames had lashed out at her. The pain had been so excruciating that her memories were jumbled. “I’ll recover in time.”

  “Make sure Caleb knows you’re not quite recovered,” Frieda said. “And I’ll hex him if he tries to make you do anything too energetic.”

  Emily sighed, torn between embarrassment and irritation. She knew Frieda didn’t like Caleb.

  “I’m sure he’ll respect his mother’s wishes,” she said, reluctantly. A low chanting sound echoed through the window. She turned to peer through the glass, watching as a number of worshippers hurried out of their homes and headed to the temples. There were a dozen religions, she recalled, that prayed at sunrise and sunset. “Is there a toilet here?”

  After Frieda pointed them out, Emily used the surprisingly modern facilities, then changed into a long blue dress and inspected herself in the mirror. Her hair was still a mess, but the rest of her looked reasonably presentable. She should be grateful, she supposed, that Lady Barb had packed her trunk instead of Queen Marlena. Alassa’s mother would have sent along enough dresses to outfit every girl in Whitehall, along with gifts and other largess intended to forge a bond between them. She glanced at her bag, wondering if she had time to write a brief message to Alassa and her other friends. She really should have done it as soon as she arrived, but she’d been too wrapped up in other matters.

  Later, she told herself firmly.

  “Come on,” Frieda said. “Being late for dinner would be insulting.”

  Emily nodded as they walked down the stairs. There was no sign of General Pollack or his youngest son when they reached the dining room. Caleb sat at the table, reading a book, while his mother quizzed him relentlessly on his studies. Emily winked at him as the two girls entered, carrying more bowls of stew. She had the feeling they were going to be eating fish for the foreseeable future.

  “I trust you slept comfortably,” Sienna said, once the food was served. “I’m afraid we don’t have any better rooms.”

  “It’s better than sleeping in a tent,” Emily said. It helped that she wasn’t sharing close quarters with five other magicians – all men. “Or on a boat, for that matter.”

  Sienna gave her an understanding glance. “Your legs still wobbly?”

  “Just a little.” Emily rested her palm on the table. “I keep feeling as though the room is going to heel over.”

  “You get over it,” Sienna said. She smiled, rather dryly. “I used to love boating when I was a child.”

  “Perhaps we could take a fishing boat out through the gap,” Caleb said. “Fish tastes better if you catch it yourself.”

  “But not if you cook it.” Marian stuck out her tongue. “Don’t marry my brother for his cooking, Lady Emily. He can’t boil water without ruining it.”

  “My cooking is worse,” Emily said. It was true. On Earth, she’d had no time to learn any more than the basics. Her mother had never been particularly interested in cooking anything more complicated than scrambled eggs. “I throw perfectly good ingredients together and wind up with a mess.”

  “I dare say that qualifies you to become an army cook.” Sienna’s lips twitched. “I’ve yet to meet a military cook who couldn’t turn a silk purse into a sow’s ear.”

  Emily had to smile. “Is that why so many aristocrats brought along their own cooks?”

  “Naturally,” Sienna said. “And I imagine they brought their own food too.”

  She cocked her head. “The official excuse is that poor food puts the men in a fighting mood,” she added. “But the truth is that hardly anyone can be bothered to organize proper food for anyone who doesn’t have a title.”

  Emily nodded in grim agreement. She’d seen enough during the campaign to know that Sienna was right. The aristocrats – and the combat magicians – had eaten well, while the common soldiers were lucky if they got enough to sustain themselves. Farrakhan had been on the verge of collapsing into a bloody revolution because its nobility had collected all the food, leaving the poor to starve.

  She tasted the stew. It was similar to the stew they’d had for lunch, but with a spiciness she found disconcerting. Marian passed her a piece of freshly-baked bread, which she dipped into the liquid. It countered the spice, making it easier to eat.

  “You’ll enjoy sailing on a little boat,” Caleb said. “Would you like to try?”

  “If we can get through the gap,” Emily said. She hadn’t liked the look of those waves. The currents might have pushed the ship into the harbor, but they could easily dash the vessel against the rocks if the crew lost control. “Is that safe?”

  “We’d probably hire a boat from the outer docks,” Caleb said. “Anyone who tries to pass through the Dragon’s Teeth in a small boat is taking their life in their hands.”

  “It’s been done,” Karan said. “Jolly did it on a bet…”

  “Jolly nearly drowned when he tried to get back in,” Sienna said. “Idiot should have had the sense to realize the currents were against him. If he’d let himself be pushed back out to sea, he could have found his way to the outer docks or tried again at high tide.”

  “He was brave,” Karan said.

  “There’s a difference between bravery and stupidity,” Sienna said. She shot her oldest daughter a sharp look. “I hope you weren’t too impressed.”

  Karan colored. Marian snickered at her discomfort.

  “We’d have to scramble down the ladders, but it should be safe enough,” Caleb said. “Magic will break our fall, if we lose our grip.”

  Emily made a face. She wasn’t sure she liked the idea of scrambling down wet ladders, even if she did have magic. Walking into a necromancer’s lair had been incredibly dangerous, but she’d known – all too well – that she didn’t have a choice. Taking on the necromancer directly was the only way to stop him from devastating an entire country. But taking a fragile boat out onto the open sea…she knew she could teleport away, if things went to hell, yet she still didn’t like it.

  “We’ll see.” She suspected Sienna was judging her, although she had no idea what would appeal to the older woman. “It sounds like fun.”

  “Caleb will take you to the temple tomorrow,” Sienna said, briskly. “You can say a prayer before the god of the ocean, if you wish.”

  “You do have to pay your respects to Beneficence,” Caleb added. “I don’t think you’ve been there before, have you?”

  Emily shook her head. She hadn’t stayed long, the last time she’d visited the city. Lady Barb hadn’t seemed inclined to take her to the temple, either. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go, but she knew it was important to Caleb and his family. Besides, she was curious. She’d only been to one other temple in her life, back in Zangaria. Her mother had certainly never bothered to take her to church.

  “Make sure you take some fruit,” Sienna ordered. “And afterwards…?”

  “I need to visit the bank,” Emily said. Markus had said he was in his office every day. If he wasn’t, for whatever reason, she could leave him a message. He might take a day off every so often to visit Melissa. “And then…I’m not sure.”

  “I’d like to visit the bank,” Karan said. “I…”

  “Perhaps later,” Sienna said. She glanced at Frieda. “Caleb and Karan will be happy to show you the city.”

  “Thank you,” Frieda said, poli
tely.

  Emily concealed her amusement. Frieda would probably be happier exploring on her own, if Emily couldn’t accompany her. She really didn’t like Caleb that much. Maybe she’d get on better with Karan. She was only a year or so older than Frieda, after all.

  “I have a bottle of sleeping potion, if you wish to take it,” Sienna said, when the dinner came to an end. “Or you can read until you feel tired.”

  “I have letters to write,” Emily said. She owed Alassa and her friends an update. “I’ll get some rest afterwards.”

  Sienna nodded, and led her daughters out of the room. Caleb sent Emily an embarrassed look – it was clear he didn’t know quite how to act when his mother and his girlfriend were in the same room – and nodded to the door. Frieda gave him a mock-suspicious look as they walked up the stairs. Emily shot her a warning look in return. She understood Sienna’s concerns – and Lady Barb’s – but she wasn’t going to allow either of them to control her life.

  “We’ll be outside tomorrow,” Caleb whispered. Frieda slipped past them and hurried into the room, carefully leaving the door ajar. “I wish…”

  He leaned forward to kiss her. Emily kissed him back, tensing as she sensed the spells crawling through the house. Caleb wasn’t in her room…surely, mere kissing wouldn’t set off the spells. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. She hugged him back, feeling a sudden hot flush. Her body was reminding her, sharply, of just how much she’d missed him.

  “I look forward to it,” she whispered back. “Are you going to be sneaking through the house at night?”

  Caleb looked embarrassed. “Mother would not be pleased,” he said. “And she would notice.”

  Emily nodded. She’d seen monitoring charms at Whitehall, but Sienna’s spells were an order of magnitude more complex. Sienna would know, if she cared to ask, precisely what her children were doing at all times. Emily couldn’t help thinking there was a fine line between being protective and smothering…and that Sienna, for all her obvious concern for her children, was on the wrong side.

  “I understand.” She kissed him again, just as she heard Frieda clearing her throat inside the room. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She kissed him one final time, then stepped into the room and closed the door.

  Chapter Six

  EMILY WAS MILDLY DISAPPOINTED, WHEN SHE woke the following morning, to discover that Caleb hadn’t tried to sneak into her room. He’d said as much, but still…she shook her head, telling herself not to be silly. She wasn’t the only person in the room. The prospect of Caleb accidentally sneaking into the wrong bed was the stuff of bad romantic comedies, not real life. Frieda would be understandably horrified if Caleb climbed into her bed.

  She washed, changed into a new dress and then checked the chat parchments. Alassa, Jade and Imaiqah had written brief replies, but they were clearly distracted by greater matters. The Gorgon had added a reply of her own, talking about a new piece of magic that linked into some of her older spellwork. Emily couldn’t help feeling a flicker of wistfulness as she read her words, then added a comment. She hadn’t had the time to explore new spells over the past few weeks.

  And Caleb and I have to continue our project, she thought. It would be harder, she thought, now they were sleeping together. How are we supposed to remain focused?

  Frieda came out of the bathroom, wearing a long, dark dress that fell to her ankles. She’d clearly put some effort into her appearance, something that surprised Emily. Frieda was pretty enough, in her own way, but she rarely bothered trying to enhance her looks with charms or beauty products. She couldn’t help wondering if Frieda was trying to impress someone.

  “You look good,” she said. “Are you meeting someone?”

  “No.” Frieda colored. “I just thought I should try to look better if I was walking next to you.”

  Emily looked down at herself. The blue dress was one of ten that had been chosen by Queen Marlena, after her first attempts to clothe Emily had ended poorly. It suited her, Emily felt; it drew attention to her face and hair without being too tight around her bust or hips. And yet, it was hardly fancy. The only thing that made it stand out from something Karan or Marian would wear was the expensive cloth, which wasn’t noticeable unless someone happened to touch her sleeve. She could walk through the city without attracting attention, just another unmarried girl of marriageable age. She’d just have to keep her hair hidden behind a small glamour.

  “I think you look fine,” she said. She held out a hand. “Shall we go downstairs to breakfast?”

  She wasn’t surprised, when she reached the bottom of the stairs, to discover that Sienna and Caleb were chatting quietly. Emily couldn’t help wondering precisely what they’d been talking about. Caleb’s mother might have decided to caution her son against kissing her, as well as everything else. Or she might have sat him down for a long talk about the courtship and precisely where he saw it going. The thought caused her a bitter pang. Casper’s death had changed so much. As a younger son, Caleb’s marriage wasn’t important; as the oldest surviving son, his marriage would shape the future of the entire family.

  Which isn’t just the general and his wife, she reminded herself. There’s an entire clan of magicians who might be affected.

  “Please, eat.” Sienna waved a hand towards a plate of bread and honey. “I believe the honey comes from Cockatrice.”

  Emily nodded, meeting Caleb’s eyes. He looked embarrassed, suggesting that she was right to worry about what his mother had told him. She forced herself to look away as Sienna hurried out of the room, leaving the three of them alone. A moment later, Karan entered, yawning loudly as she took a seat.

  “We’ll buy some fruit on the way,” Caleb said. He took a piece of bread and slathered it in honey. “And we might as well take some bread too.”

  “The god will appreciate it.” Frieda chewed her bread with every evidence of enjoyment. “It’s very good.”

  “We have a good cook.” Karan glanced at Emily. “Try not to let my brother eat too much outside the house. There’s a big meal this evening.”

  “She means she wants you to take me for lunch so there’s more food for her,” Caleb said. He sounded more natural, now his mother was out of the room. “But we could go visit one of the new burger bars if you wish.”

  Frieda snickered. Emily rubbed her forehead, embarrassed. She’d founded the burger bars – or at least she’d introduced the concept, when King Randor had given her Cockatrice. It still amused her, in so many ways, that burgers and pizzas had become luxury foodstuffs all around the continent. Fast food still wasn’t particularly fast – it would be years before the Nameless World had anything to match McDonalds or Pizza Hut – but it was clear evidence of the changes she’d wrought.

  “I might enjoy it,” Emily said.

  “They’ve become places for youths to hang out,” Karan informed her. “I go to the nearest one whenever I come home.”

  Caleb grinned.

  Emily washed her hands and checked her appearance as soon as they finished breakfast, then followed Caleb and Frieda onto the street. It was nearly ten o’clock, local time, but the streets were already crowded. The street magicians were doing their best to attract attention, casting brilliant spells into the air; street sellers were calling out to passing tourists, inviting them to sample their wares. The racket was deafening. Emily checked the charms on her money pouch carefully – Lady Barb had warned her that the streets were often teeming with pickpockets – and then placed another charm on herself. Anyone who tried to touch her without permission would be in for a nasty surprise.

  She forced herself to remain calm as the crowd shifted around her, making way for a black carriage and two horses. The driver was cracking a whip loudly, waving it around as if he intended to start flogging the crowd. Emily half-expected to hear people screaming in agony, then be forced to watch helplessly as the rest of the crowd attacked the carriage, but it seemed the driver had just enough sense not to a
ctually hurt anyone. She couldn’t help wondering why the passenger didn’t simply get out and walk. The streets were so crowded that getting from one side of the city to the other would be easier on foot.

  “That’s one of the guildmasters,” Caleb said, when she asked. “They’re the only ones allowed to use carriages at all times.”

  Frieda bumped against Emily. “Perhaps we should have waited for another hour,” she said, as they elbowed their way through the crowd. “The streets would be calmer then.”

  I hope so, Emily thought.

  They left the carriage – and its cursing driver – behind as they slowly made their way to the temples. Emily hadn’t realized, when they’d walked through yesterday, that there were actually two streets, with a single massive temple at the crossroads. A long line of people waited outside, some clearly visitors from outside the city. Caleb waved to a street salesman as they joined the line, purchasing a small bag of apples. Emily couldn’t help wondering if those, too, had come from Cockatrice. Her barony was the closest place where apples grew.

  Caleb muttered instructions in her ear. “When you walk into the temple, proceed through the left door – that’s the women’s section. Kneel in front of the statue to make your devotions, then place the fruit with all the other donations. And then walk out the back and wait for us there.”

  Emily glanced at him. “What happens to the fruit?”

  “Officially, the god eats it.” Caleb’s face twisted in droll amusement. “Unofficially, the priests distribute it to the poor and the needy.”

  “Oh,” Emily said.

  She glanced up as she heard a bell ring, just once. The line inched forward, then stopped again. Two men were arguing in front of her, chatting about…something. Three more walked past her, heading towards the other temples. They wore the red robes she’d seen before. And they weren’t the only ones. There were so many people on the streets that it was hard to be sure, but there were at least thirty Hands of Justice within eyeshot. They patrolled, moving up and down the street. Their eyes missed nothing.